


When the World Comes Knocking

by DesireeArmfeldt



Series: Traveller Without Baggage [2]
Category: due South
Genre: Amnesia, Community: ds_snippets | dsc6dsnippets, Gen, POV Second Person, Prompt Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-24
Updated: 2015-04-24
Packaged: 2018-03-25 13:25:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 296
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3812158
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DesireeArmfeldt/pseuds/DesireeArmfeldt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sequel to A Street in a Strange World</p>
            </blockquote>





	When the World Comes Knocking

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted to [ds-snippets](http://ds-snippets.livejournal.com) for the prompt:
> 
> "A man walks down the street  
> It’s a street in a strange world  
> Maybe it’s the third world  
> Maybe it’s his first time around  
> He doesn’t speak the language  
> He holds no currency  
> He is a foreign man  
> He is surrounded by the sound, the sound  
> Cattle in the marketplace  
> Scatterlings and orphanages"  
> 

You slid out from under the Caddy and saw, upside-down, a pair of knee-high leather riding boots, a flaming red uniform coat, a man’s face, a funny hat.  
  
You rolled to your feet, wiping your hands on your coveralls.  
  
“Help you?”  
  
Right-side-up, he didn’t look so hot.  Looked like he’d been shot in the gut (you thought, and then felt weirdly sure that somewhere back in the black hole of your lost memories, you actually knew what someone who’d taken a gut-shot looked like).  
  
“Hey, you okay?”  You put a hand under his elbow to steady him—never mind smearing grease on that spotless sleeve—and flash-quick, his other hand locked around your wrist with a grip like steel handcuffs.  
  
(Only no, not quite, because apparently you also knew what it felt like to be handcuffed, _what the fuck?_ Then again, a guy who gets pulled out of a dumpster with amnesia probably wasn’t a Scoutmaster.)  
  
“You want to explain the hell this is?”  No defense like a good offense.  And if he’d come to whack you, he wouldn’t’ve just been hanging onto your wrist.  And staring at you.  
  
“Ray.”  Not a question.  His face looked disbelieving, but his voice was 100% sure.  
  
_Ray?_ Didn’t ring any particular bell, but after three years, you were pretty sure amnesia didn’t work like in the movies.  
  
You shrugged.  
  
“Sorry, buddy.”  
  
He let go of you like you were on fire, and you wondered if he was going to hit you.  But then he shook his head, certainty suddenly on his face, now.  
  
“Ray.”  
  
And maybe you were bored, or maybe there was something about this guy that you liked, never mind you didn’t know thing one about him. . .  
  
“Okay,” you said with another shrug.  “Have it your way.”  



End file.
